ELL over a decade ago, I sat at a meeting in the village pub, eating a packet of Scampi Fries and drinking a pint of Carling (it wasn’t a sophisticated place, but it was what we had). The meeting had been called—I think by the local landowner—because the pub hadn’t made money for some time and it looked as if the owner of The Flying
Take a butcher’s
Mar 20, 2024
2 minutes
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